If Not Victory
by andi839
Summary: Chip wants revenge; all of his plans were foiled by Abby and now she's sending him to jail.  Abby/Ziva friendship, but the whole team is involved.
1. Chapter 1

Rating: FR13

Characters: Abby, Chip, Ziva, and the team.

Summary: Chip wants revenge; all of his plans were foiled by Abby and now she's sending him to jail.

Genre: Drama

Challenge: Encore Challenge and Bert Challenges.

Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS or any of its characters.

* * *

"Which, if not victory, is yet revenge."

John Milton, Paradise Lost

* * *

"Hey, Chucky! How are you doing?" Mark called as he walked in the door.

"Hey, Mark!" Charles greeted his brother. "Call me Charles; you know I hate that name." Though their features were similar, they'd never be mistaken for twins. Charles Sterling had never been very athletic, but Mark Agnoli looked like an offensive lineman for the Baltimore Ravens. The brothers had little in common. Mark couldn't distinguish gas chromatography from gel electrophoresis; his knowledge was the type that changed him from an indifferent student into a successful businessman. Charles would prefer to watch a movie produced by Ingmar Bergman rather than any of the James Bond DVDs his brother had given him at Christmas. Despite their differences, the two were close.

"Sorry, buddy." Mark apologized as they moved into the living room. "I got your message; how are you doing?"

"I've been better. Mom starts crying every time she talks with me, I'm facing jail time for assaulting a co-worker, and my lawyer is an idiot." Charles scowled as he sat down.

"Hey, Mr. Steele came very highly recommended."

"I'd prefer Mr. LoDuca."

"You know you need some one who's not connected with the family. I'm not even sure that it's a good idea for me to be here."

"You're my brother and I want you here. Believe me, it couldn't make things any worse."

Mark was the proprietor of a small store in Baltimore specializing in goods imported from Europe. Though the store provided a sufficient income for him, it was only a front to conceal Mark's real work within the "business" run by the Salinitri family. Charles didn't know much about his job; Mark tried to shield his little brother from the unpleasant realities associated with his work.

It had always been that way. Mark had protected Charles not only from the bullies on the playground, but also from the situation in the Agnoli home. Their father, Markus Sr., had been an involved with the Salinitris as well. Try as she might, their mother Clarissa was never able to keep him from conducting his business within their home. Mark was older than Charles and had shielded him from the worst of it. When her husband met with a fatal accident, Clarissa decided to separate the boys from that life by moving away from Baltimore. Mark had adamantly refused to leave and elected to stay with an uncle. Determined to save at least one of her sons, she took Charles to her family's home in West Virginia.

"So how does it look for you?" Mark leaned forward with a concerned expression on his face.

"The DA offered me three to five years for aggravated assault and aggravated battery. He's willing to drop the other charges."

"That's all? After everything that happened at NCIS, I thought it would be worse."

"Yeah, but if it were to go to trial, it would all come down to her word against mine. According to my lawyer, the physical evidence was destroyed during our struggle and everything else is circumstantial. I should have kept my cool. The chances of her having been able to recover enough intact DNA from that carpet fiber to use for identification were miniscule. There would have been no concrete evidence to link me to the frame up."

"Are you going to take the deal?"

"Do I have any choice?"

"Not really. You can't have them poking into your past."

If the prosecution were allowed to take Charles to trial they would dig deeper into the case that resulted in his termination from Pemberton Medical Analysis. That could lead them to check other cases that Charles worked. An overzealous legal assistant might discover a connection between some of the inconclusive results that came from the laboratory and the cases that dealt with the Salinitri family.

The family had wanted to get a man on the inside to 'handle' the forensic evidence collected by the authorities. Charles had been the perfect person for the job. He was a model son and an upright citizen; any ties he'd had to the Salinitris' were long buried in the past. They decided his activities would raise too much suspicion to have him directly working for the Baltimore police department, so he'd found a job with Pemberton. Much of the independent testing required by lawyers on both sides of the aisle went to that laboratory.

Charles had successfully fulfilled his obligations to both his employer and his benefactors for a number of years. He was scrupulously precise with most of the testing he did, but it wasn't hard to fix certain samples to give inconclusive or negative results. He'd maintained an unblemished record until the case that resulted in his termination. Charles hadn't a choice; he didn't have the opportunity to swap out the sample or to change the report. Contaminating the blood was quick, dirty, and effective. He knew that the damage might be traced back to him, though he'd tried to throw the blame on the forensic tech that had prepared it. That sample had the potential to directly implicate one of his employers in the death of a protected witness and he was under quite a bit of pressure to make it go away.

Despite his efforts, the "mistake" had been traced back to Charles. The Salinitris' had been upset to lose their inside man and felt a sense of obligation if not appreciation for Charles' sacrifice. They had the court records sealed and found him an interim job. They'd also happily provided the resources he needed to settle the scores with DiNozzo and Stewart. One of their contacts in the judicial system had kept tabs on Stewart, finding him after he'd disappeared and changed his name to Petrie. The family had provided physical assistance as well; it had been much easier than he anticipated to covertly enter the morgue and remove the legs from the Jane Doe with a couple of his cousins at his side.

"What went wrong with the plan? What happened to 'Anytime I undertake a mission, I recon the situation so I can best adapt myself to the surroundings.'" Mark was frustrated that their scheme had failed so spectacularly.

"Abby. Abby is what went wrong." Charles spit a little as he described her. "She's a little girl whose whims are indulged by everyone else. She's thoroughly unprofessional; she whines when she doesn't get her way and she's irrationally jealous of anyone who might take attention away from her."

"But she's good. No one should have been able to clear DiNozzo."

"She's tenacious when it comes to her favorites. If I'd set up any one other than a person on Gibbs' team, she'd never have gone to those lengths."

"What about you? You were part of her team, too. Wouldn't she have defended you as being set up by Stewart just like DiNozzo?"

"No way. She never liked me. I invaded her sanctum and _presumed_ to do forensics in her lab." Charles voice was mocking. "Never mind that I was more than qualified and that the Director herself had hired me. She would have listened to the farting hippo before me."

"What?"

"It's this stuffed animal she's got, a hippo with a rude noisemaker inside. She keeps it in the lab and it wears a little spiked collar just like hers." Charles was getting worked up. "This is all her fault. Why couldn't she have just left it alone when DiNozzo was cleared? Why did she have to dig deeper? Now, I'm going to jail and I'm not going to do well there. What if they find out…."

"Hey, hey! Don't worry about jail. The word's gone out, nobody will mess with you." Mark tried to calm his brother.

"Thanks." Charles was still distraught. "But what am I going to do? I'll never get another forensics job. Abby saw to that, Abby with her superior attitude. She can't contemplate the idea that someone else could do the work just as well as she could. She used to chase me out of the lab at the end of the day, even if there were more evidence to process. Did you know..."

"Chuck, don't work yourself up. We can deal with her." Mark hoped that hearing the nickname would jolt him out of the rant.

"Don't call me that!" Charles paused, "what do you mean?"

"Well, she might have an accident on the way to work. Or you know, some of the neighborhoods she frequents aren't that safe. A random mugging on the way home from a club could put her in the hospital. Or someone could slip something into her drink, she's just about the only one in the building that drinks Caf-Pow, right?"

"I want to do it."

"You can't."

"I know, I know. But can I plan it? Can I make it personal for her?"

"What are you thinking of, Chuck?" Mark was wary.

"Don't call me that." Charles was a little irritated, but he smiled. "I've got the perfect idea."

* * *

End note: Chip's statement, "anytime I undertake a mission, I recon the situation so I can best adapt myself to the surroundings" is from _Voyeur's Web_.

Note: I chose to punish him for the violent crimes (threatening and attacking Abby) and let the others be dropped. I'm not sure if this is realistic, but bear with it please; I need it to be this way to fit into the rest of the story.


	2. Chapter 2

Ch 2

The bullpen was quiet; not all of the team were there, but those present were working diligently to identify the perpetrators of a confidence scam targeting Navy dependents. Tim was checking the financial records of several victims and Ziva was looking for a common link between them. The morning had been fairly uneventful and they looked up when Abby and Tony entered the room. Dressed in her court suit, Abby looked uncomfortable and relieved. Tony's face was slightly petulant.

"I'm glad that's over." Abby sat at Tony's desk and slid off her court shoes. "Did you notice Chip never looked at us. I wanted to see him squirm, but he acted like we weren't even there."

"I wanted to testify against him." Tony was frustrated.

"If you wanted to, you could take him to civil court and sue him for the pain and suffering you experienced when you were accused of the crime he fabricated." McGee suggested.

"Rule 13, Probie. 'Never, ever involve lawyers.'" Tony quoted. "I don't want to bring new ones into the picture. I guess I should be content knowing he's going to jail. He doesn't strike me as the type that would do well there."

"You should have brought him a harmonica. He'll have time on his hands; it's only right to return the favor." Abby smirked.

"Why are you speaking as if it is all over?" Ziva was confused.

"Chip took the plea bargain offered by the DA and the judge accepted the terms. He won't be going to trial."

"A plea bargain?" Ziva

"He confessed to aggravated assault and aggravated battery but the defamation of character…" McGee started.

"…Breaking and entering, theft, desecration of a corpse…" Tony cut in.

"…Trespassing, obstruction of a federal investigation, and all of the rest of the charges were dropped." McGee finished.

"I know what a plea bargain is, but did the prosecutor not have a strong case against Chip?" Ziva asked. "Why should he get away with everything he did to Tony and George Stewart?"

"It's nice to know you care." Tony smiled

"I guess the DA didn't think he had enough to guarantee a conviction. The physical evidence from the carpet fiber was destroyed during our fight. I have nothing that proves he framed Tony." Abby mourned.

"With that little DNA, it was a long shot anyway." McGee flinched when he saw Abby's displeased reaction.

"We have circumstantial evidence, but a good lawyer might be able to explain that away. It would come to his word against hers, and Abby on the stand is not always the best witness when you aren't talking about forensics." Tony ignored the glare Abby sent his way.

"In Israel, he would never have gotten away with it." Ziva said.

"He'll get three to five years and his career is over." Abby was not pleased with anyone in the bullpen right now.

"It saves the public money and you won't have to take the chance that he'll get off lightly if a sympathetic jury is seated." Tony added.

"Then why does the not take a chance with a jury?" Ziva wondered.

"Who knows? I don't want to think like him. I don't even want to think about him." Abby was getting worked up. "Do you know how many cases he worked on? All of those defense attorneys will call the evidence he processed into question. I need to retest it myself to be sure he wasn't up to anything else, then send it off to independent laboratories for confirmation. Cynthia let me know that the director has already received a number of notices for delay of trials and the deposition requests will be right behind them."

"I haven't done forensic chemistry in awhile, but I'm still qualified to help. Let me know if you need me." Tim offered.

"Not right now." Gibbs had appeared. "McGee, David. Need you to talk with a Mrs. Evelyn Granger. She's been identified as the contact person for two of our victims. Here's her address. DiNozzo, I need you talking with Metro. Abby…"

"I'll check out…"

"I was just going to tell you to take a break while you can. You've earned it." Gibbs looked around at the stunned faces of his team. "What are you waiting for?"

As the team jumped into action, Ziva filed her questions away for later. She'd not been an investigator for long, but she'd been an operative for years. She'd studied people and she knew what made them act the way they did. Someone like Chip who believed himself, however wrongly, to be right would not confess to a crime unless there was some benefit to him avoiding a trial. Ziva felt that something wasn't right and she would figure it out. However, right now she needed focus on the coming interview. She smiled; maybe if she asked nicely, McGee would let her drive.

* * *

"Like the I've stated before, I ran the prints collected at the crime scene through AFIS. I did not find the prints at the crime scene. I did not collect the prints. I simply took the evidence brought to the forensic lab and entered it into the system. That was the only work I did for your client's case." Charles was doing his best to answer Ms. Marian Beetner, lawyer for Kyle Unger, a teenager accused of distributing drugs at the Norfolk Naval Base.

"Did you come into contact with any of the physical evidence?" Ms. Beetner shifted in the uncomfortable chairs provided by the prison in the interview room.

"I worked only with the fingerprints."

"Surely that wouldn't keep you busy. Are you certain you did no other work on this case?"

"I was kept busy with the Rodman case; that evidence had been brought in the day before. The evidence logs, the laboratory reports, and the deposition by Ms. Scuito should corroborate my statement."

"Were you ever left alone with the evidence from this case?"

"No."

"Never? She didn't leave to report to a superior or just to take a break?" Ms. Beetner was skeptical.

"Ms. Scuito does not leave evidence lying around, even when her assistant is in the room."

"So you are saying that there was no opportunity for you to manipulate the evidence?"

"No opportunity." Charles kept his answers short to control his urge to tell her what he thought of her.

"Had you ever met Mr. Unger before, or had an opportunity to collect his finger prints?"

"No, never."

"Mr. Sterling, what exactly happened between you and Ms. Scuito in the NCIS forensic laboratory on the evening of November 22, 2005?" Ms. Beetner switched tactics.

Charles' lawyer decided to step in at this point. "My client's statement is a matter of public record, Ms. Beetner. If you are curious you may look it up, but I believe you are finished questioning my client now."

"Thank you for you time, Mr. Sterling." Ms. Beetner collected her papers and stood up from the table with a disgruntled look.

Charles waited until she left to speak. "What is she thinking? Why would I jeopardize my position to compromise evidence in a case where the guy was caught red handed?"

Mr. Harold L. Steele, Esquire cleared his throat and played with his mustache. Charles resisted the urge to snort at his mannerisms. The pompous windbag was close to incompetent. He'd attained his lucrative career due to his connections and maintained it using the talents of his junior partner. It turned Charles' stomach to know that this parasite was being paid quite well by his mother.

"You're a mystery to them. Though you didn't admit to it, it looks like you took the job at NCIS to set up DiNozzo. If that were the case, who knows what else you'd do to hurt him."

"Not that. I wanted to tell that stiff faced prune where she could take her questions."

"She was irritating, but she has the responsibility to advocate for her client. If she can squeeze any doubt out of your actions and place it in the minds of the jury she will." The lawyer paused. "I know that we've discussed this before and you are as satisfied as possible with the result of your deal, but I still think you had a good chance of an acquittal if we'd taken your case before the right jury. Both of your fingerprints were on the knife and all of your coworkers knew she didn't like you. We could have planted suspicion of a set-up."

"You've never dealt with NCIS before, have you?"

"My clients are primarily civilians."

"When you've had a chance to butt heads with Special Agent Gibbs, you'll understand my decision."

"If you say so. Tomorrow you'll have your first appointment with the psychologist to evaluate you for admission into their experimental rehabilitation program here. It could lead to an early release should you complete it successfully. Normally they wouldn't even consider you since you committed a violent crime, but I pulled some strings."

"Thank you."

"Yes, they're willing to test you for admission into the program because you did plead guilty. It shows you have some remorse, you are ashamed of the deed and want to live differently."

"Oh, yes. I've learned from my mistakes."

* * *

_"Couldn't we get to her at home? It wouldn't be hard to get someone into her place posing as a city employee coming in to check the utilities." Mark had cancelled his afternoon appointments to plan with Charles. They were determined not to make any mistakes this time._

_"Yeah, it would be easier, but it doesn't matter. She never takes it home."_

_"And you're sure you want to do it this way?" Mark took in Charles' set face. "Okay. So the thing never leaves NCIS and Abby herself is potentially at the lab at any hour. When are you sure she wouldn't be there?"_

_"The only certain time she'd be absent would be when she has to be at court."_

_"That shouldn't be hard to find out. Who has access to the lab?"_

_"There are the agents and evidence technicians."_

_"We don't want an NCIS employee, especially not an agent. People notice what they do when they're around. Someone like a janitor would be better."_

_"There's only one company that has a contract to work in the Navy Yard. We could get someone into the agency, but there are so many buildings that you can't be sure of getting someone assigned to NCIS building." Charles shook his head._

_"What about deliveries to the lab?"_

_"Most of the deliveries don't come directly to the lab. There's a central area for receiving packages."_

_"What about all of those machines? They must break down sometimes. Does she have a mechanic come in to fix them?" Mark was getting frustrated._

_"She usually calls the manufacturer for information or she'll figure out how to fix it on her own. When that doesn't work, she'll call in United Medical Equipment Repair. They have specialists that can deal with most of the equipment in her lab." Charles thought. "She's going to be too busy to do much of the maintenance herself with her own work, retesting mine, and the extra legal business she'll have because defense lawyers are going to have a field day with my conviction. She'll call United next time something breaks down."_

_"Do they vet these people?"_

_"No, they're just checked at the gate."_

_"That might work. Remember Nate?"_

_"Yeah. He built us a go-cart when we were kids."_

_"He's still a whiz with anything mechanical. He went back to trade school to get some specialized training, the economy being what it is. He just finished his coursework and he's looking for a job. I think we could get him in."_

_"Then we just need to get something to break."_

_"Or have it broken for you. Tell me, how often does NCIS work with the FBI?" Mark smiled._


	3. Chapter 3

Ch 3

"Mr. Agnoli, how are you doing?" FBI Special Agent Ronald Sacks waited for the last client to leave the store before speaking to Mark.

"Agent Sacks! What a pleasant surprise. Who's your friend?

"This is Special Agent Todd Williams; he's new to the bureau."

"It's nice to meet you, Agent Williams. What can I do for you gentlemen?" Mark ushered them into his office.

"I hear that you might know something about a cocaine dealer in your area by the name of Terry Snyder." Sacks pulled out a picture to show Mark.

Mark took the picture. "I'm sorry, you must be mistaken. I don't know this man."

"Really, because someone told us that he bought some of your merchandise."

"Well, you'll have to check with my employees, I don't remember him coming into the store."

"It was some specialty merchandise."

"I'm sorry, I don't know what you mean."

"You sold him some weapons." Agent Williams was getting impatient.

"Look around Agent Williams, I don't sell firearms." Mark's voice turned cold.

"Maybe we should. A search through your inventory could be enlightening. I'm sure that you could prove that all of the merchandise here entered the States legally, but it would be time consuming. We'd have to close your store down for days, maybe even weeks."

"It would be a hardship to close down even for a few days, but if you aren't satisfied with my claims then I guess you'll have to do it."

"Then I guess…"

Sacks decided to reign in the rookie. "I'm sure that won't be necessary. The FBI has more important things to be doing than checking Mr. Agnoli's receipts."

"Thank you, Agent Sacks."

"We're more interested in speaking with Mr. Snyder about his supplier. You really wouldn't know anything about where to find him?"

"I don't see how anything I would know could help you." Mark paused. "Maybe you could try talking with people in other agencies."

"What?" Sacks was surprised.

"A man this good at hiding might take some interagency cooperation to find him. You could call the NSA; they have everyone's phones tapped, don't they? And NCIS is somewhat specialized, but a number of Navy personnel live in that area. Maybe they've heard something."

"Where did you hear about NCIS?"

"There's a scientist there, Abby Scuito. Do you know her?"

"I know her. Are you interested in a date? She doesn't seem to be your type."

"No, no. She put my brother in jail."

"Your brother?"

"Charles Sterling. He was her lab assistant. They had an argument and he attacked her. It's a shame. I always knew the kid was unstable; Mom took him away from here when he was little to give him some 'special' attention."

"This is interesting, but what's your point?"

"I know what my brother did was wrong and he deserves to serve every minute of his sentence. But Miss Scuito and the MCRT must have treated him badly or he wouldn't have done what he did. I wish she could experience some of the frustration that we're going through. Even something little, like one of her machines breaking down so that she'd have to postpone her work for repairs."

"Are you suggesting we vandalize her equipment?" Sacks raised his eyebrows.

"Of course not! I was simply suggesting you speak with NCIS about this Terry Snyder. The Navy has a presence in this area and they might be able to help you. I'm sorry you misconstrued my ramblings about my brother. I hope you find this guy before anyone else is hurt."

* * *

The MCRT spent the morning at Bethesda Naval Hospital searching the pharmacy. Their investigation into a group distributing prescription drugs to sailors who'd returned home from the Middle East took them to Bethesda. The only promising lead thus far was a petty officer with a morphine addiction possessing an unknown white substance in her locker. After taking her into custody, Tony, Tim, and Ziva were dropping by Abby's lab with the evidence they'd collected.

They were met by the sight of a shell-shocked ME's assistant leaning against the wall outside the lab. "I wouldn't go in there if I were you."

"What's going on Palmer?"

"She's busy. Very busy. And she doesn't want to be disturbed. I just came in to drop off a sample and she started telling me exactly how she planned make me suffer before she killed me." Jimmy gulped. "She was very graphic."

The agents exchanged glances. "Are you sure that she said that to you because she was busy? Did you try out some of your autopsy humor on her?" Tim queried.

"No, I swear all I said was that I had a sample for her and would she please sign off on the chain of evidence." Jimmy pushed away from the wall and took a couple of wobbly steps. "I think I should get back to autopsy now. Dr. Mallard will be missing me, and I certainly don't want him to become angry, too."

Tony, Tim, and Ziva walked into the room and stared in astonishment at the sight that met them. Abby was running from machine to machine to computer as beepers striving to be heard over the music sounded every few seconds.

"Abby? Abby!" Tony yelled over the din.

She wasn't aware of company for a few moments, but as she spun around to start a new test she saw them and grabbed Tim. "Oh, good, McGee. I need your help. Let's put that biomedical engineering degree to some use."

"Abby, why was Palmer hyperventilating in the hallway?" Tony asked.

"He's still in the hall? I thought I'd scared him badly enough to send him back to autopsy permanently." Abby scowled.

"I think you were too effective; he seems unable to move. What's going on?"

"I'm in the middle of retesting Chip's results for the Eckert case, AFIS is not working properly for some reason, everyone has new evidence for me to test, and I have a deposition scheduled in forty five minutes and I'm not even dressed." She spun toward the latest alarm to check the results coming from the mass spectrometer.

"Maybe you need a new assistant." Tony tried to keep a straight face.

Abby skidded to a halt in front of Tony. She stood on her toes to give her the extra inches she needed to look right into his eyes. With a finger pointed toward him, she threatened, "Anthony DiNozzo, remember that I am one of the few people in the world who could kill you and leave no forensic evidence. And I would, but today I don't have time to dispose of your body." Having sufficiently cowed Tony she spun back to Tim. "McGee, I need you prepping samples for electrophoresis. Tony, if you're done tormenting me, you can hand over that clipboard for me to take over chain of evidence. Ziva, you can…"

"I will take Tony and get out of your way." Ziva said hurriedly.

"Thank you." She turned to slap off another beeping machine. "McGee! Don't just stand there! The samples aren't going to prepare themselves."

"But, Abby, you didn't tell me which…" Tim was saying as Tony and Ziva hastened out of the lab.

"That's no excuse. The McBride case samples are in the cooler beside…" Her voice cut off as elevator doors closed in front of them.

"Poor McGee." Ziva said with feeling.

"I wouldn't want to be in his shoes right now," Tony shuddered.

* * *

A few hours later, Ziva was finishing her report on the petty officer arrested that morning. She looked around; Tony was reading a GSM magazine concealed in a personnel file requisitioned from the Bethesda pharmacy. Gibbs was gone; he'd taken a look at McGee's still empty desk and went to pick up a Caf-Pow with his coffee. Ziva smirked; perhaps he was going to remind Abby to take a break, or at least to let McGee take a break. They still had a case to work.

As she stretched to relieve her cramped muscles, she thought about Chip and again wondered why he would go so quietly to jail. Since Ziva was waiting for several phone calls to be returned before she could continue her line of inquiry on the case, she decided to pass the time looking for some answers. She might have been new to criminal investigative work, but this was familiar ground. Gathering background information was like gathering intelligence; the information didn't have to stand up in court, it just had to be right.

She pulled Chip's NCIS file and started reading. Charles Eldorado Sterling was a graduate of Virginia University of Science and Technology with an in B.S. in biology and forensic science earning a 3.4 grade point average. Reading between the lines of his letters of recommendation, she surmised he was a hard worker rather than an outstanding student. His first job out of college had been as a laboratory assistant at PharmTech. He'd worked his way up to laboratory technician during the next four years. After that, he moved on to a job with Rikard Manufacturing and two years later moved on to Merck. Sixteen months later he began work at NCIS.

Ziva frowned; there was no mention of Pemberton Medical Analysis in his resume. She checked the court record of Stewart vs. Baltimore Police Department, and found that the employment dates for PharmTech mirrored the time he actually worked at Pemberton. A few quick calls established the last two positions had not been falsified as well. His supervisors described Chip as a good technician, if rather uninspired. His work was flawless, if given enough direction.

The next of kin listed in the file was Clarissa Monrean Sterling, Chip's mother. A DMV record check confirmed she lived in West Virginia. Her husband, Larry Sterling, lived in the same residence. Their date on their marriage license was well after Chip had been born. Ziva checked his birth certificate to find he'd been born Charles Eldorado Agnoli and his father had been Markus Agnoli, Sr. Ziva stopped to think; she'd heard that name somewhere before. Just as she was about to run a search on his name, Gibbs returned to the room with a frazzled McGee in tow. "What do you have for me?"

* * *

"Hello, I'm Dr. Alan Werlin. I'll be performing the evaluation that will place you in our experimental rehabilitation program." The doctor was a small man with a friendly smile and gray hair that stuck out every which way.

Charles reached out to shake his hand. "Charles Sterling."

"I'm here put you through a battery of exams. Don't try to give the 'right' answers, there are specific questions in the test designed to detect a person trying to fix the results. It will automatically disqualify you for the program. Answer honestly."

"I understand."

"First, I need to get some background information from you, Mr. Sterling. May I call you Charles or is there something else you would prefer me to call you, a nickname perhaps?"

"No!" Charles spoke a little too forcefully. "No, please call me Charles."

"I'm hearing a little sensitivity about that. Would you like to tell me about it, Charles?"

"Do you know how many ways people can change the name Charles?"

"Quite a few, I'd imagine. Charlie and Chuck come to mind. Aren't they affectionate diminutives of the name? What does your mother call you?"

"Just Charles."

"But it's different outside of the family?"

"It was bad when I was growing up. I've never been tall, but when I was younger I was the littlest kid in the neighborhood and not very athletic. I was the perfect target for the bigger kids." Charles grimaced. "It was pretty bad until my older brother beat them up. Then, they were too afraid to touch me, but they were mad that I'd told on them. They started calling me names, so they could tell Mark honestly that they never laid a finger on me. Those names were awful and elaborate; I still can't believe that Paul Jeffries couldn't pass first grade, but was creative enough to write an poem comparing me to vomit and set it to music."

"That is amazing. But your file says you moved to West Virginia. Weren't you able to make a fresh start and some new friends?"

"No. I lost my protector when Mother moved us away from Baltimore. Every new kid gets a fair amount of teasing. But that was all right until some clueless teacher used my middle name, Eldorado, in class. I could almost see the bullies' eyes light up like the sky on the fourth of July. Dora was the kindest thing they'd called me."

"Oh, my…"

"Then my mother married Larry Sterling." Chip couldn't stop himself. "My stepdad was the least liked man in town, a lawyer that worked with the DEP. The kids despised him and by extension, me. They knew better than to physically harm me, but the teasing was unbearable. Eventually, my mother had to enroll me in a charter school; I refused to go back."

"Well that is…"

"It didn't stop there either. My stepfather never cared to learn my name; not even my mother could convince him my name wasn't Chad. When I moved to college, things became slightly better; all of my classmates called me Sterling. I wasn't thrilled to have my stepfather's name, but it was much better than trusting them not to mangle Charles. I tried to continue that on the job, but at my first position at Pemberton there was another technician named Rob Stirling. We had to use first names. It was fine until my last job. I have no idea how my last supervisor got the name 'Chip' or 'Chipper' or 'Chazzoid' out of Charles. Even if it weren't as bad as some of the other names, it bothered me because she still called me that and had everyone else do it, when she knew it irritated me." Chip realized that Dr. Werlin was staring at him with a strange look in his eyes. "Sorry, sometimes I get carried away."

"I don't mind. It's been quite enlightening."

Chip winced. "I was afraid of that."

"Nonsense, it just helps me in the evaluation. After working in Virginia state correctional facilities for the last twenty years, you can't think that's the worst story that I've ever heard." Dr. Werlin smiled. "Now, let's begin with the evaluation process. Shall we?"

* * *

At FBI headquarters, Tobias Fornell was giving the task force a piece of his mind. The cocaine distributor they were pursuing was taunting them with another death. This time, a thirteen-year-old boy had been found dead in a playground from an overdose with a note pinned to him asking the authorities to call Fornell's office.

"I want every asset, every contact worked on this one. Kreiger and Lovell, I want you to talk with the boy's parents, friends, and teachers. I want to know every move he made in the last month, who he spoke to and where he went. Lee, we need warrants for every computer he touched; home, school, library, friends. Sacks and Williams, I want footage from every traffic or ATM camera within one hundred, no two hundred, yards of that park. I want to have the faces of everyone who was near there last night. But first, we're going to NCIS."

"NCIS?"

"They arrested a petty officer this morning who worked in the pharmacy at Bethesda. She had a small bag of cocaine in her possession. We can check to see if there is a link to our case."

"It's a long shot." Sacks was skeptical.

"So is everything right now." Fornell turned aside to answer a phone call.

Todd Williams motioned Sacks to the side of the room. "This is our chance to get into that woman's lab at NCIS. Why can't we give Agnoli what he wants? It wouldn't hurt anyone. We need his information."

"Don't fall into that trap, Williams. Exchanging favors with a man like Agnoli never works out in the end. He'll use it against you eventually."

"But this can't hurt anyone. Lab equipment breaks down all the time. We could do something little, just to slow her down. We need to get to Snyder."

"No, the man is a snake; he may not even know anything."

"Kids are dying." Williams was desperate.

"So we'll find Snyder, but we'll do it the right way. You don't want Agnoli to have anything on you."

"What are you two waiting for? Let's go!" Fornell yelled from the door.


	4. Chapter 4

Ch 4

"Abby, our friends from the FBI are here to discover if there is any connection between our doped-up petty officer and their homicidal cocaine dealer." Tony escorted FBI Special Agents Fornell, Sacks, and Williams to the NCIS forensics laboratory.

"Is this the guy responsible for the kid that was found last night?" Abby's voice drifted off as she saw the look on agents' faces.

"Yes." Fornell said shortly.

Abby realized he was in a fouler mood than usual and eschewed her usual banter. "Sorry. Let's see if I can help you. I've been busy, but when Gibbs called I put a rush job on it. The results should be appearing any minute."

"Is there anything that you can tell us now?"

"I don't know anything about the stuff this guy has been selling. The FBI hasn't sent me any of their results, so I can't do any comparisons. What I can say…"

Sacks and DiNozzo had moved closer to join Abby and Fornell around the computer. As they talked, no one noticed what Agent Williams was doing near the mass spectrometer.

* * *

"Tell me again why McGee refused to join us?" Ziva asked Tony as they walked to the forensics laboratory.

"He's scared. When Probie gets anywhere near forensics, Abby pops out to drag him back to help her. He's convinced she's planted a tracking device on him."

A wail was heard coming from the lab. "No, no, no, no, no. I've already spoken to that lawyer twice. Why do I have to go back for a third deposition?" Abby was protesting.

"The judge granted them another one." Cynthia Sumner soothed the frazzled scientist. "You'll do fine. Your answers won't change and this move will just make the defense look desperate."

"Cynthia? What are you doing down here?" Tony was curious.

"I'm letting Abby know that she has a deposition scheduled for two o'clock tomorrow afternoon."

"Don't you have a phone? I'm a little surprised to see the assistant to the director running an errand."

"Yes I do and I'd use it, but Ms. Scuito must be screening her calls." She turned to Abby. "Two o'clock tomorrow. I know you'll be brilliant."

"What was that about?" Tony asked after Cynthia left.

"I have another deposition to give for the Davidson case." Abby was still visibly upset.

"But Chip was not even employed by NCIS for that case." Ziva protested.

"I know. I think the attorneys just hope I'll be rattled by all of the extra attention."

"They don't know our Abby then." Tony patted her head.

"Nope. What do you have for me?" Abby was returning to her normal self.

"Um, Abby, you called us."

"Oh, yes. I'm a little distracted. One of my babies needed special attention this morning." Abby turned to speak to the repairman working on the mass spectrometer. "How's it going, Nate?"

"Slow, but I think I've found your problem."

"Great. Take good care of him." She motioned to the others. "Come on. Let's go to the ballistics lab; I want to show you something hinky about Sergeant Parker's weapon."

After a few minutes, Nate looked up to see the two agents with their backs toward him and Abby consumed with her explanation. He had already located the object of interest, and now he pulled out a camera. He was going to need a couple of pictures to explain this to the boss.

* * *

_The brothers retired to the kitchen. Charles took refreshments out of the refrigerator and gathered the ingredients for his special recipe nachos; he was indulging in his favorite foods before he headed to jail. As he started slicing the tomatoes, Charles continued the conversation they'd started in the other room._

"_Do we have to kill her? I'd love to put her behind bars."_

"_You've tried that before. They'd immediately suspect you in some sort of frame up."_

"_True."_

"_Besides, it took us three years to find the perfect opportunity to set up DiNozzo. It could take even longer to get someone close enough to Scuito to set her up."_

"_You're right."_

"_We need to stick to good old-fashioned methods."_

"_Swimming with the fishes." Chip grinned._

"_You've watched too many gangster movies." Mark shook his head. "Do you really want to use that stuffed animal of hers? You're kind of obsessed that toy, and it isn't really healthy. It would be easier to fix her brakes so that she has an accident."_

"_I am not obsessed. The hippo is the best way. She hugs him when she's upset, sleeps on him when she's tired, and talks to him when she's confused. Using him means that we'll get her when she's vulnerable, when she hurts the most." _

"_Okay. How do we do it?"_

"_We booby trap the toy."_

"_Hmm, It's twisted, but I like it. We can make Bert go boom!"_

"_No, that's too quick. Remember the poison you used on Judge Terrance Pipher?"_

"_I don't know what you mean." Mark looked slightly uncomfortable. "The judge died of a sudden heart attack."_

"_Right." Charles rolled his eyes. "It's an untraceable, slow-acting, biological toxin. I don't want it to start a homicide investigation, but I want her to feel it and I want her to know she's dying."_

"_That's harsh. How are you going to do it? Bert's not going to stick her with a needle."_

"_He wears a spiked dog collar. I've seen her prick herself when she hugs him. Just apply a little to the tips and the next time she needs a hug from Bert…" Charles smiled, "it's all over."_

* * *

Nate looked at the hippo. Bert was wearing a very stylish leather collar, but it wasn't spiked. This was going to be a problem. Quickly, he finished the repair and then made a small adjustment to temperature controller in the oven of the gas chromatograph. With Abby's schedule, he was sure that she'd be calling him back in the next few days.

* * *

"I want to see your reports on my desk and then you're free to go." Gibbs said before leaving to speak to the Director.

His words gave new energy to several sets of tired fingers and soon Tony and Tim were putting papers on Gibbs' desk. Surprisingly, Ziva lagged behind. She was still working as they were preparing to leave.

"Good night, Ziva." Tim said as walked out.

Tony lingered behind. "You didn't finish before me?"

"No and I am just as surprised as you are." Ziva smiled.

"What's the matter, are you still having problems with American computers?"

"My report is done, but I have other work to finish."

"Ooh. Liaison business. What time is it in Tel Aviv? Or do you have a little cloak and dagger work to do here in DC?"

"Good night, Tony." Ziva smiled mysteriously and turned her attention back to her computer.

"See you in the morning."

After he left, Ziva printed out the report that she'd completed twenty minutes ago and went back to her background search on Markus Agnoli, Sr. She'd found a death certificate, from December 14, 1985. The cause of death had been a gunshot wound, and according to the case file, he'd been the victim of an unsolved shooting. A search through the criminal records database showed he'd been convicted of aggravated assault. A call to a contact of hers revealed that he'd been an associate of the Salinitri family. The Salinitris were believed to be involved in a number of activities, including racketeering, smuggling art and illegal weapons, fraud, murder for hire, and extortion. Chip's father was thought to have been part of the enforcement branch of the business.

Her contact tipped her off to a second Markus Agnoli, Chip's brother. Ziva remembered now why the name sounded familiar, Mark had been at Chip's arraignment. She discovered he owned a small import store in Baltimore. His name hadn't changed, so he'd not been adopted by Sterling. The brothers' ways must have diverged after father's death. Ziva wondered how close they were. Mark had no criminal record, so perhaps he hadn't followed in his father's footsteps. She would need more information about the brothers.

An hour later, Ziva put down phone after making the calls she needed to see Gibbs entering the bullpen.

"Working late?"

"Just finishing up. My report is on your desk."

"Good." He nodded.

"Good night." Ziva picked up her bag to leave.

"Ziva," Gibbs' tone made her turn back to face him. "You will let me know if you find something, won't you?"

She hid her surprise while examining his face. How did he always know? "Yes Gibbs, I will."


	5. Chapter 5

CH 5

Mark received a message from Nate. There was a problem with their plan and they needed to speak face to face in a place that was secure. Mark sent back word to meet in a café run by one of the Salinitri matrons. The upstairs room used for conferences was soundproofed and a hidden entrance from a store next to the restaurant ensured that no one would know that both men were in same place at the same time.

They arrived a few minutes apart and ordered the house special. Angela Salinitri herself delivered their meal, pinched their cheeks, and exclaimed on how much they'd grown before leaving them alone with the food. With unspoken consent, they agreed not to speak about business until after the meal; they shared family gossip and reminisced over childhood pranks instead.

Once the plates were removed, Mark pushed back his chair and began. "What happened?"

"I couldn't use the poison."

"Why not?"

"The thing didn't have a spiked collar." Nate pulled out his phone to show Mark the pictures. "She must have changed it after Chuck left."

"Ah, crap. Chuck had his heart set on using the poison. Is there something else we can put it on?"

"Nothing that we could guarantee would prick her. All of her needles are sterile or cleaned off before she handles them. I can't just set up a needle and expect her to stab herself with it. Now what are we going to do?"

"Now we go to Plan B; Bert goes boom. It's probably better this way. The poisoned dog collar was always too iffy for my taste."

"How are we going to manage that?"

"We buy a hippo just like Bert. I've been checking them out. There is an inner cavity containing the farting mechanism."

"What?"

"It's a whoopee cushion. We take that out and put in some C4 with a pressure trigger. The next time Bert is squeezed…BOOM!" Mark threw his arms in the air and yelled.

"You can do that?"

"And so much more. I've been talking with our people about it."

"Could it be traced back to us?" Nate had watched enough forensics on TV to know what scientists could do with bomb detritus.

"The C4 was stolen from Navy by another group years ago. When they investigate, they'll look first at that old case and someone who might want to cause trouble for the Navy. The other parts of the bomb can be made from common materials."

"What about the hippo? There aren't too many places in the area that sell farting stuffed animals. Couldn't they check to see who bought them?"

"I found a place in Richmond that sells them. Is that far enough away for you?" Mark was becoming impatient with the questions.

"Won't they suspect me? I've been in and out of the lab a lot."

"They search you each time you go through the gate, right? You can't be a suspect if they never find any explosives on you."

"How am I going to get it in then?" Nate wanted to know.

"Don't worry, I have that covered."

* * *

Dr. Werlin had returned bringing with him more evaluations to complete. "We've finished processing your first tests and we have some more questions." He tossed the forms onto the table and sat down. "How are you doing today?"

"Much the same as I was last week. I'm seven days closer to getting out of here. That, with the time off providing I finish this program, leaves one thousand and eighty two days left to serve and seven hundred forty eight days until I'm eligible for work release."

"Did you account for leap year?" Dr. Werlin's face crinkled into a smile.

"Yes, I did."

"You are quite the planner."

"Yes, I like to think so."

"You used that with DiNozzo and Stewart, didn't you?" The doctor was met by a silence, Charles had angrily pursed his lips together, determined not to speak. "Come now, this is one of the requirements for your admission. We need to talk about what brought you here. Now is as good a time as any."

"The crime I pled to was the assault on my co-worker Abby Scuito. I've not been convicted of any wrong doing in relation to DiNozzo or Stewart." Charles spoke stiffly.

"But she believed you were responsible and that was the catalyst for the incident. I'd like to explore it. You went to quite some lengths to set them up."

"My lawyer has told me not to speak about that, and I'd rather not discuss it."

"Doctor-patient confidentiality applies to this session. Unless you are planning to hurt yourself or some one else, I won't be sharing the information with anyone. You aren't planning that are you?"

"Of course not."

"Let's not discuss the details of the alleged plot; I'd prefer to hear about your attitude toward them at the time of the Stewart vs. Baltimore Police Department trial."

"I do a good job. I'm a good researcher, very precise." Charles was looking at his hands.

"Why were you fired then?" Dr. Werlin fished out a legal pad from amongst the papers he'd brought for Charles.

He sighed and began his well-rehearsed story. "They needed a scapegoat. The contaminated sample embarrassed the police department, DiNozzo and his partner in particular. They were relying on the forensics to pull them out of a jam."

"Isn't that what forensics is for? To provide the smoking gun, so to speak?"

"Yes, but their case against the suspect was extremely weak; there was plenty of reasonable doubt and circumstantial evidence. Good forensic results would have helped, but there was plenty of wiggle room for the defense even if the tests had come back positive. Baltimore PD needed someone to pass the blame onto."

"So DiNozzo was covering up for his inadequate work?"

Charles realized shouldn't shift all of the blame to DiNozzo; it might look bad for him not to admit his part in the case. "DiNozzo and his partner are usually good detectives, but there just wasn't much to go on here. It was a high profile murder case, they were under a lot of pressure to successfully solve it."

"They initially blamed Stewart, I believe."

"Yes, he packaged the samples poorly, and it wouldn't have been the first time that he'd sent us a sample that he'd collected with a dirty needle."

"What was your part in this?"

"My problem was reading Stewart's chicken scratch; I couldn't read the labeling. He'd packaged two samples together. I assumed that he sent duplicates, like he was required to do. Since there wasn't enough blood in either vial to complete the requested tests, I combined them."

"So, it was your mistake."

"No, not really. The labeling was in error; I thought that they were from the same source. It was his mistake."

"But court cleared him of wrongdoing."

"Of course they did. He didn't intentionally mess up. He just mislabeled the samples and packaged them incorrectly. It might be a firing offense, but it wasn't criminal."

"And you were fired as well."

"Pemberton had to do that to keep getting samples from Baltimore PD. About a third of their business comes from the police department or district attorney. They had to look like they were doing something to appease them."

"You seem to be rather understanding of their actions now, though you bore a grudge against them for three years and implicated them both in either murder or conspiracy charges."

The doctor's observation brought Charles up short. He hadn't thought to include some of his own feelings in the script he'd written for himself. He tried to salvage his integrity by sounding sincere. "Since being arrested for assault, I've learned that being fired isn't the worst that can happen. I still think that they used me as a scapegoat, and I'm not happy about that, but now I realize it could have been worse."

* * *

Ziva smirked; calling a favor with a contact that worked organized crimes had produced results _very_ quickly. She knew the man was grateful not to owe her any longer, but she was still surprised at the speed of the response. Ziva opened the file. Markus Agnoli, Jr. was on their watch list; he was believed to be using his business as a front for importing weapons for Salinitri family. The agents had some evidence, but nothing that would stand up in court.

The last pages of the file contained information about the relationship between the brothers since the task force had investigated all of Mark's family connections. There appeared to have been little contact between the two; the only evidence in the file were some pictures of the two meeting around the time of the Stewart vs. Baltimore PD hearings. Ziva wondered about those meetings; had Mark simply wanted to support his brother during a difficult time? She knew better than anyone that siblings did not always follow the same paths. Before she said anything to Gibbs, she needed to discover if Chip had a stronger connection to the Salinitri family than just being related to one that was suspected of involvement.

When she returned from a lunch meeting, Ziva found a message concerning Chip's financial records from a colleague specializing in white-collar crime. There was nothing unusual in the cursory examination she'd made of Chip's financial records from the past few years. However, when she'd looked further back, she'd found something strange about the money that funded Chip's education. It appeared to have come from an account in his father's name, but a second look showed the Salinitris had transferred the money there. Ziva tried to think of reasons for the family to have funded Chip's education. She highly doubted that it would be guilt over his father's death. Her training led her to immediately suspect something more sinister.

That evening Ziva stayed late at NCIS again. She pulled the records of cases brought by the Baltimore police department involving the Salinitri family during the time Chip worked at Pemberton. A number of charges had been dropped after the lab reported inconsistent or inconclusive results. Like Gibbs, Ziva had difficulty believing in coincidence. Chip's connections to the Salinitris combined with the funding of his education and these dismissed cases were highly suspicious.

Ziva checked the records for the names of the technicians that had handled the evidence. If Chip were involved, he was very good at what he did. His name appeared in the records only twice, and the second case had been the one to get him fired. Still, the number of dismissed cases dealing the Salinitris was so significant, that she was willing to believe it was more than just a coincidence that he'd been there. Ziva checked the time. Tomorrow she'd put in a call to Pemberton Medical Analysis to get more detailed records. She wanted to verify her suspicions before she told Gibbs that Chip had been groomed as a forensic scientist by the Salinitris to be in a position to make the evidence against them disappear.


	6. Chapter 6

Ch 6

"Ms. Scuito?" Nate was back in the forensics lab at NCIS. As he'd predicted, Abby had called him about her nonfunctioning gas chromatograph.

"Hey, Nate. Please call me Abby." Abby finished loading samples into the mass spectrometer and turned to face him. "Thanks for coming on such short notice. I'm really lost without this guy. I could use the one in autopsy if I needed to, but theirs is set up for fatty acid analysis and I'd have to cool down the machine, change the column, heat it up again, run my sample, cool it, and change the column back each time I needed to get results. I really need this to be working right now; I'm caught up with all of my retesting, but now I'm backlogged on current cases."

Abby ushered Nate over to the machine as she was speaking. He smiled; he'd become used to Abby's chatter and rather liked her. It was a shame about what he had to do, but Nate had been friends with Mark and Charles since they'd all been kids and he felt very protective toward younger man. He put down his bag and prepared to examine the gas chromatograph. Of course he knew what was wrong with the machine but he had to make it look good. "Where does the problem seem to be?"

"It's isn't hot enough to vaporize the sample properly. I've played around with the temperature settings and tried a few things manually, but I haven't had time to do much diagnostic work."

"Okay, let me try a sample and see exactly what's going on here." Nate opened his bag and prepared to put on a show.

* * *

_Mark and Nate were finishing up dessert and working out the details of Plan B. "Do you have an excuse to go back or do we have to wait for another machine to break?"_

_"The GC should be down now. It's just a matter of time before she tries to use it." Nate returned to his biggest concern. "How am I going to get it in without being caught? The guards search my van and me every time I enter the Yard. They even know about the vials of insulin I carry for diagnostic purposes."_

_"You won't be carrying it in so you'll be above suspicion. That will be your alibi, the guards will have searched you when you go in and when you go out and will have found nothing. NCIS has a number of cases in court right now that rely heavily on forensics. Several defendants have motive to kill her and that will be the first place they'll look."_

_"Then how will I get it?"_

_"I know a guy who makes regular deliveries to the Navy Yard in a special vehicle. He can bring in 'bomb' Bert."_

_"Really?"_

_"Anything can be brought onto the base, you just need to know someone. All you have to do is find him in the food court and exchange bags with him." Mark considered. "You can't guarantee which day she'll call asking for help, can you?"_

_"No."_

_"That could be a problem, it will have to be a Monday or a Thursday to make this work. Those are the only days he goes there." Mark thought. "When you go in next, be sure to tell her that you can't fix it without a part that is back at the shop. Then, arrange to come back on one of those two days."_

_"I think I can do that."_

_"To make this work, I'll need you to get a bag exactly like the one you use, with the same tools. I'll get it to our man and you can pick it from him on the day."_

_"How do I get rid of Bert?"_

_"Just stuff him in a garbage can somewhere. Use gloves when you handle him, just in case they figure it out before the garbage pick up; we don't want any evidence left on the hippo."_

* * *

About an hour later, Nate called Abby over. "I think I figured it out. Your old thermocoupler is damaged and you need a new one. I've tried a number of things to bypass the problem to get it working for you at least temporarily, but unfortunately none of them worked. We do have them in stock at shop, but I don't have one on my van."

"Good. When can you be back?"

"They have me booked solid through the end of this week and I won't be free to come back here until Monday. Will that be okay?"

"It's not a problem, I can put that evidence at the back of the queue for now. In fact, I have to be in court that day."

"Will that be a problem?"

"No, we don't evidence store here, so the lab is unlocked during the day. If I'm not here, just have Rena next door sign the work order and leave it on my desk."

"Okay." He might as well scout out that food court now. "Hey, is there somewhere around here where I can get a bite to eat? My next job is at Holy Cross Hospital and I need to eat before I get on the road."

"Sure, there's a place nearby. I'll take you there."

"You don't need to go to any trouble for me."

"It's no trouble and I need to take a Caf-Pow break anyway." Abby took off her lab coat and grabbed her bag. "Besides, I want to hear all about that friend of yours with all of the piercings." As they walked out of the building, they passed Gibbs and Ziva, who were just returning from interviewing the co-workers of a missing seaman.

* * *

A couple of hours later, Ziva found an excuse to visit forensics. "Abby, how are you doing?"

"Good, how are you, Ziva?"

"Fine. And how are things in your lab?"

"Fine. Ziva, are you trying to make small talk?"

"No, I wanted to know if your…babies were okay." Ziva was still unsure how to refer to Abby's equipment.

"Major Mass Spec is all tuned up, ready to go, and working better than ever. But my GC, should I call him General GC? No, he's important but not that important. The GC is down and needs a new part. Nate said he'll bring it in on Monday."

"That is good to hear." Ziva hesitated. "But is it not unusual to have two machines break down at almost the same time? You take such good care of them."

"Not really."

"But it is strange to have them break down now when you are so busy and need to have someone come in to take care of them."

"That's when things break, when you are busy using them. They don't break when they aren't in use." Abby was becoming slightly irritated with Ziva's questioning.

"It seems unusual though. If I were trying to infiltrate NCIS, I'd say this was an opportune time to get someone into your lab and close to you."

"Are you implying something about Nate?"

"It just seems quite a coincidence that he has had to be here twice in two weeks."

"Well, Nate is a sweet guy and there's nothing wrong with him except for that overbite, which makes him look like a bit like a bunny. He really should get that fixed; I could get him connected to a good orthodontist. Yes, he's just like a little bunny—harmless, cute, and helpful. When Nate sees something wrong, he takes care of it." Abby was up in arms to defend Nate. "He fixed the door to my anaerobic chamber at no charge while he was here the other day. I like him much better than that Greg person they used to send around."

Ziva attempted to sooth the upset scientist. "I am sorry, I did not mean to insult him Abby. I am just concerned. The last person allowed to work with you in your lab is in prison for assaulting you. Suspicion may come too easily to me, but I was only concerned for you."

"Oh, thank you, Ziva." Abby changed from defensive to affectionate in a moment. She engulfed Ziva bear hug, which was tentatively returned.

* * *

Evening came around and Tony and Tim were still out following up on a lead from the earlier interview. Gibbs was at the Pentagon for a special briefing of team leaders. While waiting for the rest of the team to return, Ziva was using some personal time to track down information on Nate Smythe. Despite her apology to Abby earlier, she was still somewhat suspicious of the timing of all of this repair work. Once he was in the lab, setting up another machine to break would be simple and an excuse to return and perhaps harm or set a trap for Abby. The scientist wasn't on the front lines like the agents, but the work she did put criminals behind bars. Ziva could think of a number of them who might carry a grudge; she couldn't imagine anyone else wanting to hurt the cheerful Goth.

United Medical Equipment had been established in the early eighties and had a good reputation with a wide clientele. It was the only company Abby trusted to work on her babies. Their employment records were open to NCIS, since UME employees entered Navy Yard to service machines at NCIS and elsewhere. Nate was Nathaniel Smythe. He was new to the company having been hired three months ago following his graduation from Maryland Technical Institute. No previous employers were listed. Ziva found that strange; the man had to be in his mid thirties. Even if he hadn't worked with medical equipment before, surely he'd had other jobs to report. A DMV search showed he lived in Reisterstown. After an hour and a half of searching, there was very little else she found; no other searches that she could run turned up any information about the man.

Ziva was about to make some calls when Tony and Tim returned to the squad room carrying on a conversation they must have started in the elevator.

"But it was the sock drawer, Probie. If you are going to save something of your loved one, wouldn't you pick something like a favorite sweater or something?"

"Tony, some people like to leave everything in the room exactly how the person last left it."

"But they were socks, McGee, stinky, sweaty, unexciting socks."

"What is going on?" Ziva wanted to know.

"The family of the missing sailor had been packing up house for their mother who was moving to live closer to her pregnant daughter. According to his sister, who was unavailable to speak with us earlier, Petty Officer Granger was cleaning out the room that had belonged his deceased brother, became agitated, and stormed out of the house."

"Of course, we asked to see the room. Mrs. Granger wasn't happy about it, but she unlocked the door for us. It looked like he'd been packing up the dresser before he left, so naturally we started to look through it." Tony rolled his eyes. "His mother stood in the doorway the entire time we were in there. I think she was pleased we wore gloves so we wouldn't contaminate her precious son's clothing with our unfit hands."

"She didn't like the way Tony put the socks back, so she gave him a lesson on how to do it correctly and made him redo the whole drawer." Tim was smirking.

"Other than how to clean house, did the two of you learn anything from your trip?" Gibbs had approached unnoticed by the aggrieved Tony and the amused Tim.

"Yes, Boss. It appears the younger Granger brother had been involved in a gang in that area by the name of the Jets." Tony winced. "It seems to be a allusion to West Side Story, and these boys are every bit as racist as the ones in the movie, but much more violent. We found a few notes left behind from a "Riff". I've put a call into the local police to find out who that might be."

As the briefing continued, they were all assigned new leads to follow in Petty Officer Granger's disappearance. Ziva put away her inquiry about Nate Smythe, promising herself that she'd return to the search as soon as possible.


	7. Chapter 7

Ch 7

Returning home Friday night, Ziva was looking forward to an unhurried meal and a good book. They'd closed the case of the missing petty officer that afternoon. He'd been ready to confront the leader of the gang he believed was responsible for his brother's death. Gibbs had halted any bloodshed and they'd returned him to base.

A knock brought her to the door where she found a courier delivering a package from one of her contacts. Ziva tipped him and after he left, she opened it to find Pemberton Medical Analysis' records of their technicians' logs, files, and reports. As she looked through the package, she even found floor plans and security system specs. She wasn't sure what story her contact had given Pemberton to get this information without a warrant. Ziva smiled, David didn't always go through official channels; perhaps Pemberton didn't even know they'd provided it.

The next day was Saturday and though the MCRT wasn't on call, Ziva arrived at NCIS headquarters in the morning. Early on she'd made a point of showing up occasionally on the weekends. She'd told people that having the liaison position meant reporting to two bosses and she was using the weekend time to fill out reports for Tel Aviv. That came in handy now; no one questioned her presence.

Starting up the computer, she sorted the data and started matching up chain of evidence records with Chip's whereabouts. It was slow going; she should have asked for McGee's help, but she was reluctant to explain the origin of the files to him. However, by afternoon she had positively identified three more cases where Chip was in the same laboratory with evidence that proved insufficient to convict a Salinitri family member.

This was the reason Chip took the plea deal without trying to fight the charges and it was something Gibbs would be interested in. He would know whom to alert to see if some of those tests could be re-run. If the samples themselves weren't tampered with, there could be enough evidence to reopen those cases. As she began to pack up for the night, Ziva had a feeling that she was missing something. Chip had proven he was a careful planner; it was merely an aberration that he'd given into his emotions on the night of the attack. Could he be plotting something else from behind bars?

* * *

"Charles, this should be our last session before we make our decision concerning your place in the program. I have some final questions for you. But first, do you have any questions for me?" Dr. Werlin opened their session.

"How am I doing?" Charles smiled.

"Well, I haven't seen any of the test results. To avoid any possible bias, the program is set up with a second psychologist to evaluate those. But you know how well our sessions have gone; that should give you some indication."

"Will I get in?"

"It's highly probable. Very few people who qualify for testing have been excluded from the program. Of course, you were convicted of aggravated assault and battery; we usually don't allow people who have committed violent crimes in the program. However, we made an exception in your case because the victim wasn't badly injured and because of your willingness to plead guilty. Accepting personal responsibility for your actions a big step in any rehabilitation program. Once you've acknowledged that you are responsible, no matter that you were provoked, you've made a major step." Dr. Werlin paused. "Shall we talk about that now? We need to do it sometime today."

"Alright." Charles sighed.

"Let's start with your relationship with Ms. Scuito. You were her assistant. What kind of work did you do?"

"I did forensic analyses of all sorts. The lab serves all NCIS agents in the Northeastern US, and as the lab at headquarters we consult on cases all over the world. Physical evidence in every sort of crime comes through the lab. It's a very busy place. As much as Abby does not want an assistant, she really needs one there."

"What kind of attitude did she have toward you?"

"At the beginning it was extremely negative. She's a self-confessed control freak. I was not permitted to touch the equipment until a direct order from a superior forced her to allow me. During that first week I filled out paperwork, fetched supplies, picked up deliveries, and disposed hazardous waste. There was no real work unless you count the hours of porn she made me watch."

"Excuse me?" Dr. Werlin looked as if he hadn't heard Charles correctly.

"It was for a case. A snuff film looked like it was more than a staged thing when the woman in the movie had disappeared. We were looking for clues as to the identity of the perpetrator in pornographic footage of the two women involved in the business. It was not the best way to bond."

"No, I'd say not. What about once you started working forensics?"

"We did better, and really Abby is so overworked that she had to accept help. Still, she never fully accepted me. She would push me out the door at the end of the workday, even if more work remained and it often did."

"Did you resent that treatment?"

"Of course. I'm a capable scientist. I do good work. I can be trusted not to break her equipment or mess up the results. She treated me like a half-trained puppy who might mess up her lab at any time."

"What about the events leading up to the attack?"

Charles had carefully rehearsed a story with just enough truth to make it believable, but not so much to make it damaging. "A Jane Doe, or part of one, had appeared. The legs were the only parts found, but she appeared to be a victim of a sexual predator. All of the evidence began to point toward Agent DiNozzo but none of the MCRT could believe it to be true."

"As the forensic scientists, we were under quite a bit of stress trying to clear Agent DiNozzo. Abby wasn't sleeping and she wasn't allowing me to help. Her mental state was slightly unbalanced due to her physical state and her worry. Even after George Stewart had been arrested she was obsessed with finding answers. She was convinced that there was more to it than Stewart's revenge." Charles took a deep breath. "I heard her calling Pemberton and I knew my name would come up. My presence would look highly suspicious and they would have accused me of being involved with Stewart. I panicked."

"In her deposition, she claims you confessed to setting up both DiNozzo and Stewart."

"No, I never confessed. She misinterpreted me; like I said, she was tired and not thinking clearly. I did say something like, 'Yes, I did it. You have to admit I did a pretty good job.' But I said it sarcastically; I didn't think she'd take me seriously. Maybe she would have recognized that if she'd been more alert."

"But you knew she wasn't."

"Yes, that was my mistake. Like I said, I panicked."

"Is this when you threatened her with the knife?"

"I just wanted to scare her until I could get away. No one at NCIS liked me. No one would have believed my innocence."

"Did you start the fight?"

"Truthfully, I'm not sure what happened. We wrestled and smashed some glass bottles containing noxious chemicals. I became kind of lightheaded and the next thing I knew I found myself wrapped up in duct tape."

"What are your feelings now?"

"I'd be lying if I said I liked her or even wished her well. I don't like her and I don't want to see her again. But it doesn't mean I think that this is all her fault. I should have gone to the director or another superior and tried to explain myself. I was innocent, and I should have trusted them to find the truth. If I could go back, I'd do it differently. I didn't want to hurt her. I don't want to hurt her now."

* * *

"Is there anyone home?" Nate knocked on the door jam of the open laboratory entrance.

"Nate, is that you?" Abby's voice came from deep inside the lab.

"Yep." Nate did a double take. "You look, ah, nice, but different."

"It's my court suit. I hate it; but juries don't take me seriously without it and the lawyer would have a fit if I showed up wearing my usual clothing." Abby was dressed in a blue pantsuit.

"I have that thermocoupler. It shouldn't take too much work to change it out."

"Great. I have to go, but you don't need me here. I'll just sign your work order now."

"Thanks."

Left alone in lab, Nate worked quickly. Changing the thermocoupler was the work of a few minutes. That accomplished, he carried his bag over to desk where Bert the hippo sat. Nate put on some gloves, carefully pulled the new animal out, and set it down beside Bert.

There was a problem. They hadn't worried about simulating wear on the new animal; for all the use Bert received, there were no characteristic frayed areas. But looking at them side by side, Nate could see the difference in shade between the new animal and the old. There was not much he could do now; he wouldn't be able to get the new animal past the guards to replace it later. Nate just had to hope that Abby would not notice it until it was too late. He packed up Bert and enabled bomb, then backed away carefully and left the laboratory quickly.

* * *

Tuesday morning the MCRT was in the lab to hear about Abby's discoveries. They'd caught a home invasion at an Admiral's home on Monday morning and the man had been hounding them for results since they arrived at the crime scene. Abby had run prints lifted from the home through AFIS; several of them matched the Admiral's immediate subordinates.

As Abby moved on, a beeping sound distracted Ziva. She looked for the source of the noise and saw flashing lights on the gas chromatograph, it seemed to be up and running. Nate must have come in yesterday when Abby was away to fix it. An entirely different sort of alarm was sounding in her head. Ziva turned around slowly and checked the lab, but nothing seemed out of place.

"Ziva?"

"Yes?" Ziva saw Abby looking at her expectantly. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"I just asked if you'd spoken with Lt. Adams yesterday, but it seems like you're in a bit of a daze."

"Sorry, I was distracted. Is there something different about the lab today?"

"I'm glad you noticed. I switched my music selection from Perforated Heart to Violent Aphids; they're my new favorite group."

"Really? I couldn't tell the difference." Tony winced.

"Of course you can, silly. Violent Aphids sounds much more like industrial grunge and the lead singer is a tenor not a baritone. He's good at hitting the high notes."

"I can tell." Tim grimaced.

Abby continued to explain the nuances of her new favorite band, while Ziva slowly scanned the laboratory. Just as Abby was organizing a night out for all of them to see Violent Aphids, Ziva interrupted her to Tim and Tony's relief. "Abby, have you given Bert a bath?"

"No, I haven't. I keep him clean and I don't like to get him wet unless I have to. Why?"

"He looks lighter than usual, as if he had been cleaned recently."

"What do you mean?"

Abby reached for him and suddenly Ziva knew was wrong in the lab. That wasn't Bert. This new animal could be a simple replacement, contain a joke or a camera, or be something much more sinister. Ziva didn't know, but she was certain that Abby shouldn't touch it until they knew.

Moving quickly, Ziva knocked Abby away from the animal, but it was too late. Bert rocked backwards and as he fell behind the desk, Ziva pushed Abby to the ground and fell on top of her. They could all laugh about it later if she were overreacting, but the explosion from behind the desk drowned out any protests.


	8. Chapter 8

Ch 8

An hour later the fire in the lab was extinguished, Ziva and Abby had been rushed to the hospital, crime scene tape was up blocking the doorway, and the FBI had arrived having been called in by the director as per protocol for an attack against the agency. Ducky had insisted on driving Tony and Tim to the hospital to be checked out even though they seemed to suffer only smoke inhalation and minor burns from carrying Abby and Ziva out of the lab. Knowing his team was in good hands and that there was little he could do at the hospital, Gibbs hung around to oversee the investigation until the FBI agent in charge kicked him out with Director Shepard's blessing.

Gibbs arrived at the hospital to find Abby had been treated and moved to a private room in the burn ward. In the hallway outside of her room, he saw Ducky consulting with a nurse. When the medical examiner saw Gibbs, he excused himself and turned to greet the approaching agent. "Jethro, it's good to see you."

"How are they doing, Duck?"

"Abigail's shoulder was dislocated as a result of her fall and she received several burns and lacerations from the explosion. She's been treated for them and is currently being observed to be sure she didn't receive a concussion. They'd like to keep her overnight, but her doctor says there shouldn't be any reason she won't be able to leave tomorrow, though he doesn't want her returning to work until next week."

"It's better than I'd hoped for. How is Ziva?"

"Ziva injuries were more serious considering she shielded Abby from the brunt of the blast. They are still working on her. I have yet to meet with the doctor treating her, but I've been assured Dr. Lindgren is one of the best physicians in the department."

"Thanks, Duck." Gibbs walked into the room to see Tony and Tim on either side of Abby. Tim had a cut on his cheek and Tony's hand was bandaged from a burn he'd received while pulling Abby from the lab. Palmer seated at the foot of the bed. He'd been at the hospital when Abby and Ziva had arrived and had stayed with them while they were prepared for treatment. Gibbs spared little attention for the men; he had eyes only for the scientist on the bed.

Abby was pale, bruised, and bandaged with her arm in a sling. Gibbs wanted to wrap her in bear hug, but she looked too fragile for such a demonstration of affection. He let himself feel the fear that had been eating at his gut all day; he'd come so close to losing her. He owed Ziva once again, this time for saving his family.

"How are you feeling?" Gibbs settled for holding her hand.

"Good. They gave me something for the pain and I feel great, but I think I'm a little bit loopy. Loopy, now that's a funny word. Loo and pee. It sounds like I have to go to the bathroom, but I don't need to now. If I do have to go will you help me? But don't you look; I need to consider my modesty."

"They gave her the good stuff, Boss." Tony grinned.

"I can tell." Gibbs rolled his eyes then became serious. "What happened in there?"

"What happened? Bert went boom! Bert was a bomb, the bomb was booming, the booming was bodacious. Bodacious, you know that's a type of corn. I wonder if there will be corn for dinner tonight? That's kind of what I expect in a hospital meal."

"Maybe, we'll talk with the nurse. May I tell it from here, Abs?" Tony asked.

"Okey-dokey. Upsie-daisy. Handy Dandy, Jacky Spandy." Abby giggled. "I'll be quiet now." She zipped her mouth closed.

"Thanks, Abs." Tony smiled then turned to Gibbs. "Abby was briefing us on the evidence she'd processed from Admiral Weaver's break in. Ziva noticed something was not right about Bert. When Abby reached out to check him, Ziva knocked her away and the he exploded as he hit the ground."

"Ziva was acting strangely before that." Tim added. "She wasn't really paying attention to Abby. It was like she knew something was wrong; she just kept looking around the lab."

"Then I'll need to talk with her."

"I don't think you'll get much out of her right now. She's just waking up from the anesthesia they administered to her prior to the removal of the shrapnel." Ducky walked into the room. "I'm told she has been taken to a room down the hall. We can visit her, but the nurse tells me she's rather groggy."

"We'll see." Gibbs kissed Abby's forehead and left for Ziva's room. He heard Jimmy volunteer to stay and the others bid her goodbye before following him.

Ziva was resting on her side, causing the unflattering hospital gown to gape in the back and show the dressings covering the lacerations and burns she'd received. Her heavily bandaged arms must have protected her head, which was relatively unmarred. A mask supplied oxygen to her irritated lungs and ensured that even with shallow breathing caused by the sedatives there was enough oxygen in her system. She opened her eyes when she heard the men enter the room.

Ducky took her hand in his. "How are you feeling my dear?"

"I have been blown up before, Ducky. This is was not so bad." Ziva moved the mask down to speak with a raspy voice.

"Do not trivialize your injuries, Ziva."

"I am not. They have given me pain medication and for now I feel nothing."

"That was quick thinking in the lab." Gibbs knew that with the lingering effects of anesthetic combined with the pain medicine, he didn't have long to get information from her. "What happened in there? Ziva, what tipped you off?"

"I felt something was wrong and recognized her stuffed animal had been tampered with. I did not expect an explosive, but I did not think it would be wise for Abby to touch it until we knew."

"Why did you feel something was wrong?"

"There was quite a bit of unusual activity in lab in the forensic lab with Abby being away at court, the retesting of Chip's work, and the equipment malfunctioning. When we arrived this morning, I saw that the gas chromatograph was working. The technician must have been in to fix it yesterday while Abby was in court. The machines breaking down one after another was a coincidence perhaps, but it bothered me, so I checked it out."

"I thought you promised to tell me if you found something."

"I found nothing about Nate Smythe. Nothing at all." She coughed. "That was suspicious, but I had not yet the time to look in to it."

Gibbs noticed the omission. "But you did find something about someone."

"I meant to talk with you Monday morning, but then we caught the home invasion. Chip is connected to Salinitri crime family. His father, Markus Agnoli, was an enforcer and his brother is suspected of arms dealing."

"That's interesting, but it's not a crime."

"It appears Chip is also personally involved. The information I've gathered indicates he was fixing the lab results at Pemberton to protect family members. He was rather successful at it until he was caught by you." Ziva nodded at Tony.

"Why that little weasel…" Tony began.

"It explains why took plea deal." Tim interjected.

Gibbs saw Ziva fighting to stay awake and hushed them to allow her to continue.

"I am sorry I said nothing earlier, but I had not discovered any current plan of his. I was worried; we saw how vindictive he could be. I was about to look for a connection between Chip and Smythe when we were called down to forensics." Ziva started to cough again.

"That's enough for now, Ziva." Ducky slipped the mask back in place.

"What are we going to do, Boss?" Tony's eyes were narrowed and his hands clenched as he stared at Ziva's injuries.

"It's officially an FBI case, but we will continue tracking down Ziva's leads. Are you ready to get back to work?"

"You know it."

"Definitely." Tim looked just as angry.

"Ziva…"

"I can give Tim the files…" She began.

"You rest, the meds they've given you should make you sleep. You did good." Gibbs squeezed her hand.

"Thank you Gibbs." Her eyes closed. The others touched her hand or stroked her hair in farewell, feeling comfortable to do so as the Mossad officer did not seem quite so intimidating when she slept.

In the hallway, Gibbs began. "DiNozzo…."

"I'll check Chip's visitor log and call my connections at Baltimore PD about the Salinitris and Markus Agnoli, Jr."

"McGee…"

"I'll check out Smythe's background and financial records."

"Ducky, would you…"

"I will stay here, and consult with the doctors. I promise to keep you updated on their conditions."

"Thank you. I don't want to have tunnel vision about this attack. We need to make a list of people who might want to hurt Abby, starting with any defendants currently in court. The FBI will take the list; they have the man-power to track down all of the leads." Gibbs turned to look toward Abby's room and saw several men in suits approaching her door. "And here they are now. I'll stay to help her with the interview."

As Tony and Tim turned to leave, Gibbs yelled after them. "Find Nate Smythe."

* * *

In the evening, Tim and Tony were still at NCIS talking quietly over cartons of Chinese take out. Gibbs walked in with a fresh coffee and a relieved expression. "Ducky just called from the hospital. Abby will be getting out tomorrow, but they're still not sure when they'll release Ziva." He set the cup down at his desk. "What do you have for me?"

"I checked with my contacts and confirmed what Ziva uncovered about the Salinitri family." Tony stood and brought up several pictures of men taken from surveillance photos on the plasma screen. "They are believed to be involved racketeering, extortion, weapons trade, and a list of other things that cause the FBI to have a task force dedicated to following their every move. With that kind of business, you need people to convince clients that it is in their best interests to comply with their obligations." He clicked and a mug shot came up. "This is Chip's father, Markus Agnoli, Sr., believed to be one of their enforcers during the eighties. He died about twenty years ago under suspicious circumstances. My contacts tell me that he was implicated in a murder and was thinking about turning on his bosses when he had a car accident."

"Any chance it was really an accident?"

"They don't think so, but they can't prove it." Tony changed the picture on the plasma again, bringing up a surveillance photo. "This is Markus, Jr. He owns a legitimate business in Baltimore, but he is suspected of arms dealer/smuggler. They have nothing that can be pinned on him, every time they have a case something always seems to come up to allow him to avoid prosecution."

"The witnesses disappear?"

"Sometimes, but several times there just wasn't enough evidence to go to trial."

"Boss, Ziva was right about Chip's work at Pemberton Medical Analysis." Tim presented his findings. "I'd like to know how she got her information."

"You probably don't want to know." Tony smirked.

"Maybe." Tim pulled up some of the Pemberton records. "In addition to the cases she found, there are several more concerning Salinitri family where Chip could have fixed the results. There may not be enough legitimate evidence to accuse him, but it's worth a second look at the samples. Some of the cases never went to trial and are within the statute of limitations."

"That's nice, but what about our case?" Gibbs redirected.

"I found a connection between Smythe and Chip." Tim brought up a mug shot of Nate. "His name isn't Smythe, it's actually Sciacca. Nate Sciacca has a criminal record for aggravated assault and armed robbery in a convience store hold up. After he was released from prison, he changed his name and went to trade school."

"What's the connection?"

Tony interjected, unable to keep quiet. "They're childhood friends."

"What is the childhood friend of a man in jail for assault doing working in the lab of the victim?" Tim added.

"I'd say it's enough to bring him in for questioning." Gibbs looked satisfied.

"Here are the addresses for Nate Sciacca's work and home." Tim handed a slip of paper to Gibbs.

"Would he still be hanging around after seeing the reports on the news?" Tony pointed toward the television. ZNN had reported the emergency vehicle response in the noon news hour and broken the full story in the six o'clock program.

"You won't know unless you check, DiNozzo."


	9. Chapter 9

Ch 9

Nate Smythe was not at home that evening, but he made the mistake of showing up for work the next morning. Tony and Tim were at the shop waiting to question him. When Smythe saw them, he turned and ran. That was enough for the NCIS agents and he was apprehended after short chase. They returned him to headquarters and placed him in interrogation.

Gibbs entered Director Shepard's office. "Jen? Could I have a word with you?"

"Of course, Jethro." She put aside the work she'd been doing to give him her full attention. "Have you heard anything from the hospital this morning?"

Gibbs sat in the chair across the desk. "Not yet, Ducky should be calling soon with an update. Abby is supposed to be released this morning."

"That's good news."

"Yes it is." Gibbs changed the subject. "I came in to tell you that we have a person of interest in interrogation right now."

"And why do I need to know this?"

"Because this isn't in a case we've been working on officially." Gibbs stopped the director's question with an upraised hand. "Let me finish. Before the explosion, Ziva had been investigating Chip Sterling. She wasn't comfortable with his behavior following the arrest and wanted to find an explanation for it."

"What did she find?"

"He pled guilty to the assault charges because he didn't want anyone digging into his past. Chip has connections to Salinitri crime family. The whole purpose of his work at Pemberton Medical Analysis was to eliminate evidence that could be damaging to them."

"Does Ziva have proof?"

"It's enough to convince me." Gibbs' tone became accusing. "Didn't anyone look into Chip's background before he was hired?"

"We've had this conversation before. Extra scrutiny is given to the credentials of every employee at NCIS who handles evidence."

"How did they miss his connection to the Salinitri family?"

"Evidently, they don't have the connections that Ziva does."

"It took DiNozzo half a day of searching to find the same thing."

"We don't treat prospective employees like criminals."

"Maybe you should. Human Resources didn't even check his previous employers, or they would have found false information."

"We are in the process of setting up a system to ensure that something like this will never happen again." Jenny was placating; she could understand frustration. She redirected him before he could resume his complaint. "All of this is interesting, but shouldn't you hand this investigation over to Metro? And why do we have a person of interest in our interrogation room?"

"We found a connection between Chip Sterling, this person, and an attack on someone within our jurisdiction."

"Really?"

"Nate Smythe, also known as Nate Sciacca, has connections with the Salinitri family, and a personal relationship with Chip. He's also the technician who's been working in Abby's lab the past few weeks."

"What!"

"We think he used the equipment repair as an excuse to scope out the lab, find a time when she would be gone, and set up the bomb."

"Do you have proof?"

"Not yet, but there are too many coincidences there to ignore. I sent DiNozzo and McGee to question him and he ran when he saw them."

"Is he intact?" Jen winced at the thought of what they might have done to the man they believed to be responsible for trying to kill Abby.

"Enough for our purposes."

"Jethro…"

"Relax, Jen. I wouldn't do something to endanger the case."

"You'd better hope not." The director said as she picked up the phone to call in the FBI.

* * *

FBI Special Agent Tobias Fornell stepped off the elevator with Agents Sacks and Williams in tow. Gibbs fell in step with them. "Did you catch your cocaine dealer yet?"

"The arrest went down last week. We received an anonymous tip that led us right to him."

"And since you were free they assigned you to us?" Gibbs grinned.

"No one else wants to deal with you." Fornell sighed. "Why am I not surprised to find you working this case? Why didn't you tell us about this guy?"

"We're telling you now. Before it was just supposition, we didn't have enough evidence to bring it to you."

"We're the ones who are supposed to be gathering the evidence. I'm hoping you haven't interviewed him already. You're not impartial in this."

"Nope, we've just had him cooling his heals until you could get here." They'd arrived at the director's office while talking. "Come in, we need to brief you first."

Jenny Shepard stood to greet the agents. "Agent Fornell."

"Director." Fornell shook her hand. "I believe you know Agent Sacks," who moved forward to greet her, "and this is Agent Todd Williams."

"How do you do, ma'am." Williams shook her hand in turn.

"Good morning gentlemen. Thank you for arriving so promptly. Agent Gibbs will bring you up to speed on the situation here."

"We have a man in interrogation, Nate Smythe. Gibbs tossed a file down in front of them on conference table. "He was in the lab the day before the explosion, and we wanted to ask him if he'd seen anything. While we were searching for him, we discovered that he'd been known formerly as Nate Sciacca. Sciacca has a criminal record and he's the childhood friend of a man with a grudge against our forensic scientist."

As Gibbs continued to outline their suspicions, Sacks looked over toward Williams with a questioning glance. However, Williams would not meet his eyes; he focused on the file on table in front of them instead. A suspicion formed in Sacks mind, but he waited until the briefing was over to say anything. "Excuse me, Fornell could we have a word with you?"

"Of course, excuse us." The agents moved toward door for a conference.

Jenny and Gibbs moved toward her desk and away from the FBI agents. "I assume you've heard from Ducky by now. How are the girls doing?"

"Abby's better, and she's spitting mad about someone blowing up Bert and her lab. She wants to come in to see it, but the doctors won't allow her so the agents protecting her are keeping her at home. To cope, she's taken to detailing what she plans to do to them if they don't allow her to come in to work. One of them cracked his head open when he fainted and hit her coffin."

"Agent Donaldson?"

"How did you know?"

"I just received a call requesting a new agent to be assigned to her. I wondered what had happened."

"Better that than what happened to Agent Ekas."

"Yes, I know. Ziva does not make a good patient."

"At least she only had a straw." Gibbs smiled.

"Imagine the damage she could have done with a spoon." Jenny shook her head.

"You'll have to warn them when she's taken off of the liquid diet."

Their conversation came to an end as they watched Fornell's face grow red. The private FBI conference ended when Williams handed over his badge and gun to Sacks. In a voice that carried Fornell said, "Agent Sacks will escort you back to headquarters. When I return, I want a full accounting of the events on my desk."

Agent Williams walked out of the room with his head hung down and Sacks following him with a look on his face that could be either scorn or pity. Fornell waited until his agents were well out of the room to explain. "Evidently the anonymous tip that led us to Terry Snyder came from a favor Agent Williams did for Mark Agnoli."

"What?" Gibbs turned on his heel to follow after Williams, but the director caught him by the arm.

"What kind of favor?" Director Shepard asked in a frosty tone.

Fornell sighed. "Rumor had it that Agnoli supplied Snyder with weapons, so I sent Sacks and Williams to lean on him for answers. He insinuated he'd trade for the information. All they had to do was fix something to break in the NCIS forensics lab and he'd be willing to talk."

"Really." The director's voice became even icier.

"They didn't take him up on the offer, though Ron told me Williams was tempted. Then that kid was found murdered in the playground. We all took that hard, but Williams was the worst. He saw an opportunity to find out what Agnoli knew about Snyder when we visited NCIS."

"It's not an excuse." Gibbs pulled his arm out of Jenny's grip.

"No it isn't. As of right now he is suspended and I'm submitting his case to IA."

"That's not good enough." Gibbs started to leave.

Fornell stepped in front of him. "Gibbs, he won't get just a slap on the wrist for this. His career as a field agent is over at the very least. Please, let us handle him."

"Let it go, Jethro." Jenny said.

"It's another indication that your guy was working for the Salinitris, or at least Agnoli." Fornell moved to the door. "Let's see what he has to say.

* * *

In the observation room, Tony and Tim were watching Smythe who was staring at the wall. Fornell immediately noticed several bruises coloring the suspect's face.

Tony answered the FBI agent's questioning look. "He ran when he saw us."

"Really?" Fornell could believe that.

"Unfortunately, he wasn't watching where he was going and he hit a wall." Tim explained.

"And then fell against a car." Tony added.

"Before hitting the ground with some force." Tim finished.

"It's a shame that some people feel that they have to run away from us when all we want to do is talk to them." Gibbs said.

"Really." Fornell repeated dryly. "I'll take it from here."

Fornell entered the interrogation room, well aware that the four people in the observation room were ready to burst into the room the minute they didn't like the way his questioning was going.

Smythe looked up as Fornell sat down. "Who are you?"

"Special Agent Fornell of the FBI. I'm here to ask you some questions."

"Good. I have nothing to say to the psychos who brought me in. Do you see what happened to me?"

"I understand you fell while running away from the agents."

"They tackled me; it was totally unnecessary."

"They wouldn't have had to do that if you hadn't run. Why did you run?"

"I was nervous."

"Why?"

"I read about the explosion in paper. I was afraid I'd be blamed."

"Is there a reason they'd blame you?"

"I was in the lab."

"So were a lot of other people." Fornell paused and waited for Nate to respond. "But maybe you have something to hide, Mr. Smythe. Or should I call you Mr. Sciacca?"

Nate showed no surprise. "That's not my name anymore. I left it behind with my old life. One of the counselors at State suggested it; a new name for a new start."

"It's a nice idea, but you have to have more than just a new name. You need new values and new morals. Sometimes it's hard to live up to them if you hang around old friends."

"What?"

Fornell slid one of the pictures in his file across the table. "Do you recognize this guy?"

"Mark Agnoli, I grew up with him. Haven't seen him in years."

"And this?"

"That's Charles Sterling, Mark's little brother."

"Would you be surprised to hear that Charles is in jail?"

"Charles? He was the one always followed the rules, mama's good little boy. It's hard to believe."

"It's true though. He's in prison for assaulting Abby Scuito."

"No! What happened?" Nate was overdoing it a bit.

"She discovered he was guilty of framing a federal agent for murder. So you can see why NCIS was interested in speaking with you. You were in her lab the day before explosion and you have a history with the man who assaulted her."

"I understand now. But like I said, haven't seen them in years."

"Really. What if I were to tell you that we have proof that you've seen him recently, like within a week of the explosion?"

"I'd have to say you were mistaken." His voice stayed level, but Nate shifted in his chair uncomfortably.

An alert interrupted Fornell and he checked his text message. "How much do you know about forensic science?"

"Not much, just what I see on CSI."

"They've made great strides in technology that will identify small amounts of chemicals, like the residue from a bomb. Our forensic techs just finished processing your van and found traces of explosive in your tool bag." Fornell paused and watched Smythe squirm. "Is there anything you'd like to tell me before we match it to the residue found in the lab?"

"I'd like to talk with a lawyer." Nate screwed his lips shut.

"That's fine. But while you are waiting, you have a decision to make. We know you weren't the only one involved. You can go down for the attempted murder charges alone, or take a deal and tell us who put you up to it."


	10. Chapter 10

Ch 10

Despite the threats Abby made, the agents responsible for protecting her were more afraid of what Gibbs might do to them if they didn't follow orders. It was obvious she needed to recover and she was kept away from NCIS for the rest of the week. Much of that time she spent at the hospital visiting Ziva. The doctors considered her to be at great risk of infection and placed her on a cocktail of IV antibiotics. They insisted she stay in the hospital until her healing was well underway.

The FBI's forensic unit completed their work rapidly. Abby was back at work for only one day before the crime scene tape came down and the lab was restored to her. She took stock of the damage done to her lab; thankfully little needed to be replaced, the destruction was localized to a relatively small area. She made a list of the ruined equipment for NCIS' insurance carrier and within a week the lab was functional. Abby was aggravated about not being able to work the case and frustrated that the only way to keep track of investigation was through the dribbles of information that came in from FBI. People who didn't need to go to forensics steered clear of the lab and those who needed to go went in with fear and trembling.

Abby ran into the bullpen with an excited look on her face. "Gibbs! It wasn't Bert!"

"What?"

"They didn't booby-trap Bert; it was a new stuffed animal. The FBI analysis came back from bomb components. They found synthetic stuffing and my Bert was all natural; he had cotton batting inside of him. They must have put the explosive in a new animal and took Bert away. That's why he looked different. We need to find Bert; he could have evidence on him. The guards say Nate didn't take him through the gate; he must be somewhere in the Navy Yard."

"Not necessarily. You know he was searched when he came in and they didn't find the bomb then, so…" Tim began.

"I'm confused, are you defending him? Do you think he didn't do it? Are you…"

Tim cut her off before she could get too wound up. "No, I'm saying that there are other ways to get things in and out of the Navy Yard."

"But Abby is probably right." Ziva was back at NCIS, but restricted to desk duty and frustrated with the limitation. She did better a better job at concealing her irritation than Abby did, but people still gave the Mossad officer a wide berth. "There was no need to take him away and risk exposure, but unfortunately there are plenty of places to dispose of Bert here in the Yard; a dumpster, a garbage can, or even the river."

"The garbage pick up was Wednesday night, Abby." Tony headed her off before she could suggest organizing a crew to go dumpster diving for Bert. "I'm afraid he's gone."

"Is Nate talking yet?" Abby's eyes narrowed.

"He's said nothing since he lawyered up." Tim reported.

"Did the FBI's forensic team link Nate to the bomb?" Ziva asked.

"Not yet, but they haven't been very forthcoming. For all I know from the little bits and pieces they've sent me, Agent Sacks could have been responsible."

"That is not likely." Ziva smiled.

"You know, he looked a little squirrelly when he was in here investigating and he's never really believed the evidence that cleared Tony after Chip's frame up. Say, do you think he and Chip were in this together? It would have been a perfect scheme…"

"Abby," Tim interrupted.

"I mean it; if it is Sacks, do you think that's why the FBI is giving me so little information?"

"Abby," Tony started.

"No one is above suspicion, Tony. Look at what…"

"Abby," Gibbs stopped her.

"But," after a look from Gibbs, she sighed and desisted. "I know; it's not likely. But Gibbs, I really want to get this guy." There was a dangerous glint in her eyes.

"He won't get away with it."

* * *

"Dr. Werlin, I didn't expect to see you again until next week." Charles had been unexpectedly summoned to an interview room to see the psychologist.

"There's one more test for you to complete. I forgot to give it to you last time, so I thought I'd bring it over personally and stay while you filled it out. This way I can take it directly to the test center to be processed with others." Dr. Werlin handed him a paper.

Charles looked it over. "This is a twenty-one question analysis for depression."

"Yes."

"Didn't I do something like this already?"

"Yes, but if you are placed in the program, you'll take this every week so we can monitor your state of mind."

"Okay." There was silence as Charles began to fill out questionnaire.

"NCIS has been in the news lately."

"Really? I'm surprised they were mentioned specifically. Usually the media just credits a 'federal agency' with whatever arrest NCIS makes."

"This wasn't an arrest. There was an explosion in the forensic laboratory at NCIS headquarters."

Charles feigned shock. "What?"

"Yes, Ms. Scuito and an Officer David were injured, but are said to be in stable condition." Dr. Werlin looked at him closely to gauge Charles' reaction.

Charles kept a straight face. "I'm glad to hear that. Officer David was always civil to me and I would hate to see her hurt. Did they say what caused the blast?"

"NCIS has not released a statement about the official cause of the explosion."

"Abby always kept her volatile chemicals in an OSHA approved locker; I'm sure the explosion couldn't have been caused by negligence. But you know, some of the evidence that comes in to the lab isn't always checked thoroughly. Perhaps the blast was due to something unstable brought in from one of the crime scenes." Charles tried to keep a thoughtful expression on his face as he handed the questionnaire back to the doctor.

"Perhaps." Dr. Werlin looked at Charles with a blank expression. "I believe I have all the information I need to determine your fitness for this program."

"That's great." Charles voice faltered as he considered the implications of the wording of Dr. Werlin's statement.

"Good-bye, Mr. Sterling."

* * *

"Hey Boss, you wanted to see me?" Mark was nervous about this summons; he rarely made his reports directly to the top of the organization.

"Come in, Markus. I believe we need to speak." The casual voice belied the expression on his face.

"Yes, sir." Mark stood waiting for his cue. It was never a good idea to babble; it irritated the boss and that was the last thing he wanted to do now.

"I understand the attempt on Ms. Scuito's life was unsuccessful."

"Regrettably yes, sir."

"Would you care to explain what happened?"

"I don't understand what went wrong, sir. She should have been killed in the blast."

"You don't understand?" The voice was dangerously mild.

"There should have been enough explosive in the hippo to be fatal to her and anyone standing nearby. I thought…"

"You thought? Really? If you'd thought, you would have known that involving the FBI in the set up might lead them back to us. If you'd thought, you would have realized something else could have triggered the bomb without having a lethal effect. If you'd thought, you would have not involved Mr. Sciacca, a man with no training whatsoever for this sort of thing." The man's voice increased in volume as each error was listed.

"Yes, sir. I didn't think." Mark faltered when the silence made it obvious that a reply was expected.

"As I understand it, beyond stupidity, your greatest failure was listening to your brother's convoluted scheme. It was his idea to use the animal, wasn't it, rather than some more reliable and untraceable method of elimination?" The voice had returned to a milder tone.

"Yes, sir." As much as Mark was grateful for the excuse, he didn't want to leave Charles twisting in the wind. "But plan seemed sound, it…"

"Enough. Family loyalty is a good thing, but it shouldn't blind you." The boss walked over to the window to look out.

"Yes, sir."

"Now, we need to clean up this mess. Mr. Sciacca had been arrested, but he's out on bail pending his hearing. They have no real evidence to convict him, they're just hoping he'll crack and lead them to us. I've sent one of our people to make sure that won't happen."

The implication turned Mark pale.

"It is a pity. He was a good man. It's a shame about your brother, too. I know he'd hoped for an early release, but now with the fallout from this scheme of his, I'm afraid he'll be spending a lot longer in jail than he'd anticipated." The man turned to face Mark. "That brings me to you. I don't like cleaning up messes that involve attempts on the lives of federal agents and their associates. Cops tend to be inexorable when avenging their own. What am I going to do with you?"

* * *

Several weeks had gone by since the explosion and few developments had been made since Nate Sciacca's arrest. Abby was still considered to be the target of an assassination attempt, and Gibbs wasn't going to let anyone have another chance to eliminate her. She refused to take up residence at a safe house, so she had an agent assigned to her at all times. Abby was frustrated with the restrictions on her movements, but she was now less likely to take it out on the hapless technicians and agents sent to her lair. In her office, there was a picture of Chip centered on a dartboard hung on spotlessly clean wall.

"Abby?" Ziva yelled above the music playing in the lab. All physical evidence of explosion was gone and Abby seemed to have recovered from her scare and rage. She was quick to smile, her pigtails were back, and there were a plethora of holes covering dartboard-Chip's face.

"Ziva," Abby turned the music down to be heard. "Hey! What brings you down here?"

"I came to see how you were."

"I have evidence to test so I'm happy. I love the mystery and the wonder that comes with fresh evidence. It's a feeling like the butterflies you get in your stomach when you ask someone special out on a first date. Will it go well, will we hit it off, will he run away screaming when I get called away from the concert to examine larva found on a decaying body." Abby spun around. "It's not anything like the feeling I have from retesting my results, like I had to after Chip was arrested. That's like the feeling you get when the date goes south. It's an awful feeling in the pit of your stomach while you watch and wait to see if the night could get any worse than it already has. Speaking of Chip, have you heard anything?"

"The DA is still investigating several of the cases where they think he manipulated evidence. I'm sure charges will be brought against him in at least two of the cases. The tampering was quite blatant, even to my untaught mind."

"What about the attack on us?"

"I am sorry, but the FBI does not think that they can make a case for his involvement. Chip was in prison when the bombing took place and there is no evidence that he had contact with anyone who could have arranged it. There was some explosive residue on Nate's bag that implicates him in the set up. However, he never implicated Chip before he disappeared and the link the FBI has to Mark Agnoli can be explained away."

"But we're sure he did it."

"How many other people know about Bert and how many of those would want to harm you? FBI has not turned up anything else, so I would say yes."

"I don't like looking over my shoulder and being escorted everywhere by some agent." Abby grinned. "Though it was fun to take Gibbs shopping with me and make Tim and Tony to go to the Violent Aphids concert. How did you get out of that assignment?"

"We drew straws." Ziva smirked remembering the two agents were slightly deaf the next day. "Are you ready to take a lunch break?"

"Oh my gosh, look at the time! Yes, I'm starving. Well, not starving because we all know that anyone who can eat at least two good meals a day isn't even malnourished, much less starving. Once you've seen pictures of those poor children who don't get enough to eat, you should never use that word again. And I think that I'll have problems eating now that I'm thinking about…" Despite the subject matter, Ziva smiled. Abby's rambling was another sign that she was on her way to recovery. She watched as Abby went to her new desk, took off her lab coat, and logged off the computer. It was the same kind of desk she'd had before, but the computer had been upgraded and in a prominent location there was a picture of Abby holding Bert.

"So where are we going?" Abby asked as they joined Tony and Tim. "I'm in the mood for Mexican or maybe Thai. Something spicy. If we need to stay close we could try that new Indian place. You aren't working on anything…" She stopped as she noticed they weren't walking the right way. "Hey why aren't we taking the elevator?"

"We took over a conference room, and we brought something in today." Ziva smiled.

"Without asking me?"

"We think you'll like it." Tim grinned and gestured toward a door leading to one of the larger rooms. "In here."

Abby opened the door to find Gibbs, Ducky, Director Shepard, and even some of the agents from the FBI waiting for her. "What's going on? Are we having some kind of seminar? I didn't get the memo."

"Abby, we know Bert meant a lot to you and the two of you had history that can't be replaced. But would you accept this with our love?" Tony motioned sheepish-looking Jimmy forward. He holding a gray stuffed hippo that was chewing on a pacifier and wearing a powder blue T-shirt, bonnet, and diaper.

"We did a lot of research and we did our best to duplicate the original. You can raise him, maybe call him Bert 2.0, and tell him stories about Bert." Tim suggested.

Abby stood stunned for a moment before tears started rolling sown her face and she moved forward to gently take Bert 2.0 from Jimmy's hands. She looked him over, stroked the fur on his head, and laughed at the skull and crossed safety pins on the T-shirt.

"He's perfect." She marveled. Then she hugged the animal and Bert 2.0 responded in a typically flatulent manner. There was a burst of laughter and Abby began to make the rounds hugging everyone in thanks.


End file.
